


The FOP Job

by Mara



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Leverage
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:49:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mara/pseuds/Mara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two cops walk into a bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The FOP Job

**Author's Note:**

> There I was, watching "The Boys' Night Out Job"...

Jim Gordon came into the Metropolis bar and looked around. It was a cop bar, obviously, because he recognized at least half the attendees from various meetings he'd attended that day. A few people waved at him and he waved back, but he kept looking for one particular man. There...in the very back, nursing what looked like a microbrew beer, was a nondescript man with a receding hairline and a pensive expression.

Jim grabbed two of the same from the bartender and headed back. "Detective Bonanno?" he asked, standing by his table. "Can I join you?"

"Hmm?" Bonanno looked up. "Oh, yeah. Gordon, wasn't it?"

"Commissioner Jim Gordon of Gotham. We were both in the session on vigilantes this afternoon." He slid into the seat and put the beer in front of the other cop.

"Thanks. Oh yeah. It was an interesting session."

"That it was." Jim considered several options, then decided honesty was occasionally the best policy. "I thought you might be interested in comparing notes on our vigilantes."

Bonanno's expression didn't change at all but he was significantly more alert. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, you didn't give yourself away, don't worry. It's just that after being in my position for so many years, I learn to recognize a fellow sufferer almost immediately." Jim took a sip of his beer. Metropolis wasn't bad for beer, but it would never beat home.

"Fellow sufferer? I'm not following." He was checking Jim for a wire.

"I've worked with the Batman for several years now." Jim wiped a drip of beer off his moustache. "It's a tricky line to walk. You looked like you could use a sympathetic ear."

Bonanno sat back in his seat and looked at him.

"I'll start, if that helps. When I joined the police force, I fought corruption from the first moment. I never could have imagined I'd be helping a vigilante. But without him, Gotham would have been destroyed."

"How..." He paused and visibly considered his question. "Where do you draw the line?"

"I don't think there is a hard and fast line. If you draw one and then step over it, even if you're sure you've done the right thing...then where are you?"

"Hmm." Bonanno took a long drink.

"Working with a vigilante doesn't mean you've been bought."

"I've never been bought."

"I know. Neither have I. It's important to remember that."

"There's a team...five of them. They're all crooks, grifters, one's a former killer or I'm Aunt Fanny. But they help people now and they've put away so many bad guys in the last year. Irish and Mexican mob, crooked politicians, people stealing from the poor."

Jim nodded. "And their methods aren't entirely by the book."

He snorted. "Only one of 'em has ever even _seen_ the book. And one has a limited grasp on reality."

"Mine dresses up like a bat, so I haven't exactly got room to talk."

Bonanno snorted. "Yeah."

"It took me a while to stop feeling guilty every time he helped me make a bust."

"Hell, yeah. I couldn't decide if I wanted to take 'em all out for a drink or throw them in the slammer."

"I almost had to arrest Batman, even though I knew he was innocent and he'd saved my life. Damn the self-sacrificing man." He took a long drink, surprised to find how angry he still was.

"I almost did arrest N--their leader once. But I chose to let it go and it turns out they took down the guys who nearly killed me. Since then, well, I gave up." He snorted. "We play poker now and then."

"That's a fine Boston tradition." Jim raised his glass.

"It is. In fact, his father and mine did the same. Although I think their games ended...differently."

"Differently?"

"These guys, I swear, they could find trouble standing still in the middle of fucking Disneyland. I think we've only made it to the end of half our poker nights without shots being fired."

Jim was even more surprised to feel a burn of jealousy in his stomach. He thought about trying to hide it, but figured Bonanno was probably at least as good a cop as he was. "At least you get to know something about them. Batman...he can't let me in."

Bonanno waited patiently, like any good cop.

Jim shook his head. "He's got issues. Well, he dresses like a bat, so we've already got that. But I mean, there are things driving him that I can't even begin to guess at. He's barely more than a kid, although I don't know how many people get a chance to figure that out before he beats the shit out of them and hogties them for me to pick up."

"How old you think?"

"Maybe early 30s? That's the high end."

"Ouch. It's gotta be some heavy problems that send a guy out swinging between buildings."

"Yeah." Jim stared at the scarred wooden table for a minute. "I just hope that whatever he's getting out of this is worth it to him. Or he's gonna get himself killed."

Bonanno nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

They lapsed into silence and drank the rest of their beers.

"You get cryptic phone calls?" Bonanno asked suddenly.

Jim nearly snorted beer through his nose. "Are you kidding? 'Gordon. Meet me at the top of the First Bank of Gotham with a pair of handcuffs, a brick, and a live mouse.' That was my favorite."

Bonanno threw back his head and laughed. "And I thought I had it bad. I usually get 'Be at the back door of Roberman's Jewelers at precisely 2:53 am. Bring at least five troopers.' No idea who I'm arresting or what for. Although to be fair, they usually try to make it clear once I'm on the scene."

Jim waved a finger at him. "I'll bet your guys don't leave you standing around on dark rooftops talking to yourself."

"No, they don't. Indeed they don't." Bonanno grinned. "So, do you attend this convention every year?"

"I do." Jim grinned back.

"We'll have to do this again sometime."

Jim nodded. "Absolutely. And if you ever need help, give me a call."

"Thanks." Bonanno held out his hand. "That means a lot."

"Hey, vigilante herders have to stick together."

"That we do."

\--end--

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up significantly more serious than I intended. But that's what happens when you get two senior cops together with some beers and a chance to talk to someone who understands.


End file.
